Chris Elliott has returned as Chris Peterson, the arrogant, indolent, smirky, ''yammering half-wit'' (as someone described him on a recent episode) and ''representative of albinos everywhere'' (as Chris described himself in the same show). After being yanked from Fox's Sunday-night schedule in August for weak ratings, Get a Life is back, on Saturdays, with even weaker ratings Nielsen says it's frequently the least watched show in America. Hard to believe, but there are more people who would rather watch Sam Kinison bellow banalities in Charlie Hoover than see Elliott's hypnotizing sneer-and-squirm act in this surreally masochistic sitcom.
Most bottom-rated shows struggling to stay alive would make drastic changes to attract new viewers; all Life has done upon its return is move Chris out of his folks' house (where he resided with his perennially pajama-clad parents, Elinor Donahue and his real-life dad, Bob Elliott) and into an apartment overseen by his perennially pajama-clad landlord (Brian Doyle-Murray).
Other than that, it's business as usual, which means, as it did recently, a scene devoted to Chris finding a dead rat in a carton of milk and deciding to become a restaurant health inspector. When he sees another inspector take a bribe to ignore a roach-infested eatery, Chris says solemnly, ''I simply cannot condone a system that allows insects to go careening through our small intestine as if it were a really cool water slide.'' He vows to go to the police, but then someone offers him a bribe five whole dollars! and he happily shuts up like a clam.
No TV series has ever combined idiocy and cynicism with more conviction than Get a Life. B


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